Male Friendships Form One Way, Female Relationships Another. Should We Halt Efforts to Make Men More Like Women?

It's good to talk. Or so men are repeatedly advised, from sources ranging from mental health advocates to the partners they live with. These women are perplexed by the typical male propensity to spend an entire evening in the pub with longstanding friends, yet return with no insight about the personal struggles in each other's lives. What might they possibly be doing, all that time? Why haven't they asked how X is handling his breakup, or how Y is dealing with the loss of his father?

For women, whose own friendships often revolve around an intimate and detailed knowledge of each other's innermost feelings, this form of male closeness—based on seemingly sidestepping serious conversation—can appear oddly hollow and sad. No wonder, we think, that over a quarter of UK men state having no close friends; that male loneliness is pervasive; that many refuse to visit a doctor unless in dire straits; that male suicide rates consistently outstrip female ones; and that many middle-aged men, especially, appear permanently angry for unarticulated reasons. Suppressing everything up helps no one.

Rethinking the Merit of Silent Companionship

Yet, as per anthropologist Thomas Yarrow, this perspective may sell short the merits of the strong and quiet friendship. Professor Yarrow, based at Durham University, was researching volunteers at a heritage steam railway in the north of England when he was struck by the closeness forged among these mostly older men. His lengthy study has been published as a paper arguing that, especially for men brought up in an era of the emotional restraint, the worth of friendships built around shared hobbies—"shared activity, often in companionable silence"—may be underrated.

This quiet form of friendship "isn't bad or outdated, it's just different," Yarrow suggests.

Admittedly, this can seem oddly similar to how toddlers interact—alongside each other rather than directly with each other. But Yarrow's point is clear: just because it's not your preferred idea of friendship doesn't mean it lacks significance. Perhaps we should leave these men in peace with their trains, golf, or classic car projects—whatever activity allows them to enjoy time in the presence of others who also value less chatter.

Past Verbal Expression: A Tacit Dialect of Concern

Fortunately, Yarrow is explicitly not claiming that showing emotion is weak, nor advocating for a reversion to the past. Instead, he makes the point that emotionally expressive talk isn't for everyone, and that deeper things may be occurring beneath the surface of seemingly reticent friendships. Is he right?

As a female perspective, I'm clearly no expert on male-to-male conversation. But years of observation suggests that while men may be hesitant at first to discuss sensitive matters, once they do, they can be astonishingly candid. A absence of overt emotion should not be equated with a absence of feeling entirely.

Furthermore, while younger men raised in a more emotionally open culture may be more adept at articulating feelings, traditional men are not at all unable of it. Rebrand vulnerable emotions as masculine "sports loyalty" or "club allegiance," and many men will readily vent frustration, yearning, disappointment, or satisfaction for hours.

What is striking about Yarrow's railway volunteers is that, for all their aversion of discussing feelings, they nonetheless found ways to communicate what seems remarkably like care and solidarity. When an older volunteer didn't appear and then returned clearly unwell, his friends noticed and were worried. But, as the professor notes, they deliberately didn't probe what was wrong. Rather, they made tea, cracked jokes, and tried to be discreetly supportive while keeping normality. They were looking out for each other pretty much as female friends would, but without ever verbally acknowledging the obvious issue.

The Core Issue: Is Connection Require Words?

It's not everyone's ideal method of bonding, and it may not be yours. But if the real therapeutic value of friendship—the thing that fights loneliness and despair—is simply knowing that someone cares enough to be present in life's challenges with you, does that always be articulated with words?

This discussion continues. Maybe the healthiest approach is to acknowledge that varied styles of friendship hold equal value, each meeting the psychological needs of different individuals in their own effective way.